Nature notes

Scotland’s ancient pines

Hanging on the wall of my shed is a catapult. It’s not just any catapult – this one’s made from the finest, most beautifully knotted pine you could imagine. Shaped, sanded, then oiled, it fits into my hand in a comforting way. But the best thing about it is the fact that I made it from a freshly fallen branch, from deep in the scattered remnants of the Caledonian pine forest. It was that rare thing; green wood, meaning that it had been alive when a storm had broken it off. This was no brittle, dead stick, but a Y-shaped piece of wood that I strapped to the back of my rucksack and carried for many a mile. Every time I see the catapult hanging in my shed, I smile and think of Scotland, the mountains, but more importantly Scots pine trees.

The Scots pine is our only native large conifer tree. 5000 years ago Britain warmed somewhat and the Scots pine decided the competition from deciduous trees in England and Wales was just too much, so it died out in these areas (every Scots pine you see in England and Wales now has been planted or is a self-seeded relative of a planted pine).

So Scotland became the home of the lofty pines. A great forest of them and birch stretched between Perth and Ullapool. The Old Wood of Caledon, as it was known (now the Caledonian Pine Forest), fell largely at the hands of the English. In the 17th century huge areas were cleared to make charcoal for the metal working industries. Then came the travesty of the Highland clearances, when sheep replaced people in the glens and mountains, meaning pine trees didn’t stand a chance of regrowing. Then in the 20th century both world wars saw large numbers of pines felled, to make products to support the war effort, ammunition and gun boxes being good examples. What is left of the past is a fragmented, tattered remnant, almost too painful to look at, as it hints only too powerfully at just how beautiful Scotland must once have been.

Luckily, if you search hard enough, there are some character pines still out there. A true Scots pine is nothing like its straight growing, slender, plantation relative. Given the space and light that the loose, scattered Caledonian forest would have provided, pines branch out in a full, monstrously thick-limbed crown that oozes character. The trunk of a mature tree will be a rusty red colour on the upper half, with a thick, scaly grey bark on the lower portion.

They tolerate poor soils, hence why they thrive in mountainous regions. Life can stretch to two and a half centuries, and even in death they linger on as skeletal forms, the oils in the wood slowing decay. The needles are paired, slightly twisted, dark grey/green in colour and 5-7cm in length, about the same size as the cones. Under each scale of the pine cones are a neatly arranged pair of winged seeds. These are much sought after by red squirrels and crossbills. The biodiversity of a Scots pine forest is great. As well as those mentioned, red deer, crested tits, pine martins, Scottish wildcats, golden eagles, capercaillie, hen harriers and a multitude of invertebrates all contribute to make these woods fizz with life.

In May pines flower. On the tips of the shoots are the female parts of the plant. The male flowers are at the base of the shoot and produce yellow pollen that pollenates the female flowers to create the cone. This takes two years to mature, so trees will often have both young green and mature brown cones.

Next time you’re up in Scotland, spend some time tracking down a few of the last surviving members of the clan ‘Old Wood of Caledon’. Sit with your back against a trunk and sink back in time and deep into nature...

A TRUE SCOTS PINE IS NOTHING LIKE ITS STRAIGHT PLANTATION RELATIVE; IT BRANCHES OUT IN A FULL, THICK-LIMBED CROWN THAT OOZES CHARACTER...